


The more I try to stop this, the more I lose control...

by Gypsywoman13



Series: I'm Not Strong Enough To Stay Away [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Avenger Peter Parker, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Goes to Therapy, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Developing Friendships, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Hurt Bucky Barnes, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Older Man/Younger Man, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Precious Peter Parker, Secrets, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Underage Kissing, Whump, winterspider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29576793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsywoman13/pseuds/Gypsywoman13
Summary: After the events of CA: CW Bucky goes to therapy and works to remove the trigger words Hydra placed in his head, he makes an unlikely friend in the youngest, and newest, Avenger: Spider-Man. After spending time with the teen, complications and feelings arise to the point that Bucky has found himself even more lost than when he pulled Steve from the Potomac River.----WinterSpider.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker
Series: I'm Not Strong Enough To Stay Away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172873
Comments: 40
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before you go any further... **Read the Warnings.**
> 
> You did? You saw that it was Underage and that shit was going to happen? Even some stuff that I didn't tag for surprise purposes? (There is the briefest blink of a past rape/non-con moment in Chapter 3 regarding Bucky, that is really it, but there is also dubious consent in Chapter 3.) Okay, good. Now that that is out of the way. The warnings and story itself, in no way reflect who I am as a person...just my writing capabilities. Remember this is a work of fiction. Yes, there will be a sequel. This first installment to the series is 100% complete and will be released weekly. The sequel is in progress.
> 
> Thank you to my beta [Nelalila](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelalila/pseuds/Nelalila). I don't know what I would do without you dragging me back into writing MCU fanfic and exploring pairings such as WinterSpider. (Probably still JUST reading it.) Also thanks for asking all of these important questions that make my brain work overtime, so that I don't confuse the readers. ♥
> 
> Also, for those that follow my Bucky fic (that may or may not be reading this too) [Under the Knife I Surrendered](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645237/chapters/62256556)....I have finished my first draft of my book. Which means, I'll be working on that fic and some other MCU project ideas I have brewing in my head, while I wait to get it back to do a second draft. Plenty of time to cause some trouble. ;)
> 
> After that long Beginning Note...please enjoy!

**July 2016**

**Siberia, Hydra Base**

It all came down to that moment. The bombing of the Accords; being found in Bucharest; being taken into custody only to have his trigger words used against him; fighting Steve’s friends and one angry man in black that sought to kill him for something he didn’t do; returning to a place from his nightmares…all to stand in front of a nuke proof door. The man named Zemo stood on the other side, watching and directing their attention to the screen playing a tape Bucky didn’t need to see to know what it was. Just the sounds of the motorcycle and pop of the tire. The crash…Enough to bring tears to his eyes. Eyes that drifted here and there as if he was back on that stretch of road. A part of him hoped he looked as guilty and haunted as he felt, though that didn’t mean he wanted pity. Far from it. Bucky glanced back at the two men before him. If Tony’s breathing was a little faster, Bucky tried to ignore it. The muscles in the man’s jaw jumped and shifted with the clenching of teeth. The cries of, _“Howard!”_ changed into gasps of air, struggling to choke out the name despite no answer. Despite the fact she was dying and by his own flesh hand, whereas Howard left the earth by metal.

“Tony…” Steve spoke.

Clad in his iron suit, Tony Stark’s breathing attempted to return to normal once the Winter Soldier shot out the security camera. What he didn’t do—that surprised everyone—was try and go after the man that murdered his parents. Tony raised his face, eyes glistening in brave defiance. There would be no giving into the reaction expected of him. “It’s okay Cap,” he swallowed. “I forgave Barnes a long time ago.”

That answer alone didn’t seem to soothe Zemo. The billionaire went on to explain how when Project Insight failed and Natasha uploaded all files to the World Wide Web, he’d been quick enough to snatch it up. Every little thing. A huge information dump like that, and from an organization he barely trusted as it was, there was no way he wasn’t going to have that at his future disposal. Sure, there was information that was redacted…but where that failed, video documentation picked up the pieces. And when that failed to bring him further, there were pictures, voice files; little nuggets of gold that gave way, so he could come up with his own conclusion. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been angry, but he’d been even more enraged at the ‘training’ he witnessed within all that mess that showed just what Hydra did. What they made out of a good man…

The explanation gave enough time for T’Challa to find a way behind the blast door and subdue their adversary. His presence not much of a surprise to the super soldier’s, though for Tony he would have lied and knew he was there. Instead, Tony just suspected he’d been followed. The new King of Wakanda seemed a determined spirit and he just hoped that he heard what he needed to, in order to see the truth of Bucky’s innocence. Just like Tony did when he got the reports about the dead therapist. After that, it was all a blur. Seeing as how it still wasn’t safe for Bucky, the news still fresh and he was wanted for his crimes, no matter if he was brainwashed or not, they would follow T’Challa to Wakanda for temporary asylum. Only until his name could be cleared. There was also the issue of his mind not being his own, from what they all experienced in Germany.

When they were about to leave, Bucky told Steve to go onto the Quinjet ahead of them. Zemo would be taken to Wakanda, before being transferred for further proceedings with the UN to answer for his crime against the Accords and those that were killed in the bombing. “Tony?” he asked, catching him just before his face plate lowered for lift off.

“Yeah?”

Bucky sighed and furrowed his brows. “If you don’t mind me asking…why did you forgive me? If you _only_ suspected it was me, and hadn’t seen the proof of it until moments ago…”

“Let me stop you _right_ there Barnes, so I can clear this up as fast as possible,” Tony waved a hand in front of him. “I don’t…blame…yeah, let’s go with that…I don’t _blame_ a person whose mind has been put through the blender. No freewill? Not your fault.” He shrugged. Bucky didn’t really believe him, not fully. Then the other shoe dropped. “Just because I forgive you, doesn’t mean that I _trust_ you.” The face plate clanked down. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Tell Rogers I’ll call in a few days with an update,” Tony finished, thrusters lifting him off into the chilly air.

Bucky stared after him for a couple seconds before he walked up the ramp of the jet. He appreciated Tony’s honesty, but there was no amount of forgiveness that would make him feel better. Brainwashed or not…like he’d told Steve…he _still_ did it.

*

**3 Months Later**

**Brooklyn, New York**

Bucky stepped into the apartment…Steve’s new apartment. Though he guessed it was theirs now, considering the turn of events. For months they were in Wakanda, waiting for Tony to do what he said he was going to do. Clear his name. In that process, there was a stance made to change the Accords to something more humane. That would take a lot longer than it did to convince the government of what he’d been through. He wasn’t happy about it—more like Steve wasn’t—but he knew that if showing the proof of what Hydra did to him was detrimental to his freedom, then it had to be done. Of course people couldn’t stomach it, let alone for how long Tony made them watch it. It was all to show where they had failed in Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, by not searching for him all those years ago.

He’d heard a recording that Natasha had managed to get of the proceedings, when there for her own mini-trial, how Tony said, “This man has served our country long before many of us in this room were even born. He’s a prisoner of war that got the really shitty short end of the stick. Now I think it’s time we do our due diligence and _serve him_ , rather than lock him up and eventually seek to use him in the same way. Without his permission. And, I’m just assuming here, that _was_ your plan these past two years…wasn’t it?” If only he could have seen the look on Stark’s face at calling them out.

After winning that and other things, such as releasing those on the underwater prison, everyone was free to go. There just happened to be some rules. Punishment had to be doled out for the damages they incurred at the Leipzig-Halle Airport in Schkeuditz, Germany, as well as the fact that they still acted against the Accords. It mainly consisted of house arrest, and an executive order to be put through a re-training of being an Avenger…and therapy. And though no one could prove Tony’s involvement with aiding in the capture of the real terrorist, Zemo, he offered up his own service in making things right. Especially in the regard of the last stipulation to the probation. Bucky, due to gaps in his memory and trigger words for use as a mindless weapon, would be going through a two part therapy adventure. The first was Tony’s Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or B.A.R.F. for short, which Princess Shuri wanted ‘dibs’ on assisting him with. The second was more standard issue, with someone trained in handling POW’s and re-acclimation.

If he’d had a choice, he would have chosen Steve’s new friend Sam. Regardless of how they got on each other’s nerves, ever so slightly. However, since he was a part of the fiasco…that was not an option afforded him. It made him miss his time in Wakanda. Sure, a few weeks after they’d been there things had started to get dicey. With them being outsiders and trying to keep a low profile, it took everything in their power to stay out of the fight between T’Challa and his cousin when it came to a head. Of course it didn’t work as well as they hoped. Not with Steve adamant on assisting the man that helped them, and pretty much took them into his home. In the end, they did what they could and as far away from the main action as possible.

He set down the box of his belongings he’d brought back, stuff that he’d been given by the village children and by Shuri. Glancing down at his missing metal arm, he still couldn’t believe that it took a white rhino to finally get rid of it. The entire time they stayed in Wakanda since the battle, both Shuri and T’Challa kept insisting he let them give him a new arm. Even when Tony came that once to see how they were doing and give them updates, another offer had been made to use his tech…if not combine it with Shuri’s. Bucky had learned fairly quickly that saying no to the two genius’s wasn’t going to last very long, and they eventually wore him down on one condition: he got final say in _when_ he wanted to have another arm again. For now, he was just relieved to have the painful weight absent. Regardless if it meant he had to do everything one handed. It was a nice change of pace, and he’d gotten used to it well enough. Despite the minor frustrations it also provided.

The noise of New York filtered in through the windows and he furrowed his brows, tilting his head to take in his bedroom. Tony managed to regain his backpack containing the minimal items he’d carried with him since D.C. Journals of his dreams and any memories that managed to come back. Things he wanted to look back on, so that in case one day he ran into Steve again he would be able to ask if it really happened. He guessed now he could, but there was plenty of time for that. There was a different weight on him now though. The house arrest ankle bracelet that monitored where he went, allowing him to only go the permitted places and making sure he was kept in line. A contingency was put into place in case he went full Winter Soldier somehow, one that he didn’t know fully on the details…all he knew was it was the reason they were on the edge where Brooklyn met Queens and not where Steve’s original apartment had been. Bucky thought it was a good idea that Steve had some backup to handle him if needed. He’d proven many times, that sometimes, one person was just not enough.

“Hey Buck, are you hungry?” Steve’s voice carried down the short hallway.

“Not if you’re cooking,” he answered back with a smirk, beginning to unpack now rather than later.

Steve’s footsteps couldn’t have been less quiet. It surprised Bucky that he even got as far as he did, then again, he seemed to remember how Steve approached matters. Not that he couldn’t be sneaky when he needed…Bucky could still hear him though, when others couldn’t. More than once in the past few months, Bucky had scared Steve because _Steve_ couldn’t hear _him_.

_“I am the Winter Soldier, you know. Kind of in the job description,”_ he’d joked at the time.

_“You_ **were** _the Winter Soldier. Not anymore, Buck.”_

If only that were true.

Standing in the doorway, Steve cleared his throat to signal his presence so as not to alarm him. Bucky nearly rolled his eyes and shook his head, but instead gave a curt side nod in reply. “I figured I could order in something,” Steve said.

“Didn’t Tony say groceries would be delivered?”

Steve came up beside him, folded his arms and nodded. “Tomorrow morning. He also said to let him know if there was something we wanted to add to the list, but then made a joke about how us ‘old folks’ had no taste. So, god knows what we’ll get.”

Bucky finished unpacking within minutes, breaking down the box as if it were nothing and tucked it behind the dresser of the furnished space. Another courtesy of Tony Stark. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he swore he thought with how old they both were that they needed an insane amount of help. Grocery order and delivery…apartment decorating and purchasing…what next? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he had a feeling he would find out soon enough. “Well, if you are ordering and no cooking is involved, I could go for some pizza,” he smiled.

*

The first week was busier than he liked. His therapist found it helpful that he already documented his thoughts and feelings in journals, even recommending he start a new one about his sessions with her and what he would be working on with Tony and Shuri. It wasn’t until halfway through the second week that the nightmares started back up again. On his two year run since D.C. he barely slept. Always on edge that he would need to make a break for it and head somewhere new. A few times he would recall locations of safe houses, running into some Hydra agents that were in hiding. When they saw him they’d freaked out, and though he didn’t want to kill anyone…not anymore…it had been the last resort in some cases. Not all. He raided what he needed, such as money, rations, clothes, and burner phones.

The current nightmare was a memory, rather than fear or things he’d seen throughout his day or even week. This one was of a time long ago, bombs and gun shots were sounding all around. Men stumbling to holes dug into the ground for cover. He looked to his left when a man in a bowler hat spoke. Saying, “It isn’t looking good Sarge.” A blink of an eye and men—no, soldiers, were being vaporized. One minute there and the next, barely a hint of ash.

Bucky jerked awake, eyes searching the darkness and finding a ceiling rather than a battlefield. Car horns honked and people’s voices drifted from the windows. He measured each breath, reminding himself of where he was and more importantly who he was. Or at least, the person in between James Buchanan Barnes and the Asset. No longer one or the other, but he preferred to have a name to cement him to the present. Even if it was Bucky, a nickname for a man he didn’t think he could ever fully be again. Time would tell with all the therapy he was being put through. Deciding to get up, he exhaled and swung his legs over the edge. His capped stump of an arm reminding him of the absence of a limb to stabilize him, so he leaned forward slightly on his right one.

He glanced at the clock, the door, and finally rested on the ankle bracelet with its steady glowing red dot. Bucky needed to get out of the apartment. Get some air, clear his head and just get lost in the noise of other people’s lives. Sure, he could have probably tried to talk to Steve or called one of the three people on his cell phone, but they were all he knew. He’d heard their voices enough that it grew almost grating. Therapy was fucking hard, and though he was willing to put the work into it—anything to get better and not feel so lost—he found it frustrating and annoying. So, he made a choice that if Steve would have done it he felt that he would have vaguely been beyond pissed, but what Steve didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. It wasn’t like he would hear him anyways. He was too good at being unseen and unheard…all that fun stuff.

Making quick work on the device without triggering it, he kept it on the bed and got dressed in a black t-shirt, jeans, and dark gray zip up hoodie before slipping out the window and landing in the alley below. Bucky raised his head to look at where he’d come from, committing it to memory along with the surrounding bits and bobs laying around as identification markers. Once he had that locked in his mind, he was off and pulling the hood up over his head. He walked with a slower than normal gait to take the time to really enjoy his time out, like he used to. He’d jokingly told Steve, in their time in Wakanda, that he never did get to eat the plums he bought that day in Bucharest. Before everything descended upon him. Later that day, he’d come back to the hut to find a brown paper bag full of them. Bucky appreciated the thought and actually wound up scarfing them down, sharing with his friend in the delicious fruit, but it wasn’t so much the plums than it was the act of being able to get them himself. To walk out in public and blend in.

He’d heard that in New York, people could do just that. Then again, they hadn’t had their face in the news as much as he had in the last few months. Not only with what Zemo had done, but with what Tony had in order to clear his name.

The left sleeve was tucked into the pocket of the hoodie so as to not draw attention. People were more likely to look at someone with a disability, no matter how much they attempted not to, all because they were curious. To them, something didn’t fit. So he seriously hoped what he’d heard was true, then again it was late in the night and not many people were out…if any. It wasn’t like it was back in the olden days…days that he was trying to still remember, but he knew that much. Continuing on his journey, no place set in his mind, he let his brain empty. It emptied so much that he actually didn’t know where he was. That realization made his brows raise and he inhaled deeply. Straightening his shoulders he stopped and turned to look back the way he came, along with trying to see any street signs. Somewhere, somehow, he knew the turns he took and the paths he crossed. Whatever he needed to get home, it would come to him when he was ready. That never ceased to amaze or scare him.

Giving a sniff, he debated on whether he should end his unsanctioned walk or keep going. He was about to do so, when he heard a scuffle down the alley to his right. Bucky glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes, attempting to figure out if it was a stray animal or the like. “Stop, you’re hurting me…” the whispered words fluttered to his enhanced hearing.

His eyes darkened and jaw clenched. He knew he shouldn’t get involved, but he wasn’t about ready to let someone get hurt, let alone possibly raped. Quickly, he strode within, scanning for anything unusual, hoping to god he was wrong. Then he saw them. The woman was caged into the brick wall of the building and a man towered over, one hand gripping her wrist and the other working a lit cigarette from his lips. He flicked the ash into her face and growled. “I will hurt you however I want. I _paid_ for everything. You’re _mine_.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Pretty sure it’s against the law to own a person, then again, I’m a little behind the times on that sort of thing.” His anger burned within his chest as he glared at the man turning to face him.

The action of the cigarette being put out on the woman’s skin made his lips firm into a thin line. His chin tilted down and he moved without thought. In his head, it was like all the times his handlers got away with doing shit to him. Just because they could, or to keep him in line with their rules. Bucky pulled the man off of her and he flew back into a city garbage bin with a thud. There was no need to check for a pulse or sign of life, he could hear it just fine. However, the woman he just saved didn’t, and began to tremble as she stared at him in horror. Her scream half-ripped from her mouth, the rest of it becoming muffled as he took a step forward to stop her and she covered it herself.

He sighed and worked his jaw. “He’s okay, trust me. You’re safe now. Just…” Bucky looked further down the alley at another sound. Barely there, and even he had almost missed it. “Go home, pack up your stuff and leave him.” He’d been walking as he spoke, crouching by the man to dig into his pockets for his wallet and taking all the cash inside. Coming back over to her, he held it out as stretched as possible between two fingers so she could grab it and go without getting too close.

Patiently, he waited and relaxed a bit when she snatched it somewhat roughly and ran. Her heels clicking away until there was nothing but silence. Someone landed behind him from above, his body tensing instantly as he turned to face the company he had gained. Upon seeing a familiar mask in a head to toe suit of blue and red, he shook his head in disbelief. “That was pretty nice of you to do,” the voice from the man sounded. Young and definitely male. “The saving, not so much the stealing.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be morally sound superheroes,” Bucky shrugged. He wasn’t about ready to stand down, in case another fight was going to break out between the two of them again.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to…I don’t know…be on lockdown? I mean, that’s cool if you got permission, but…”

“Does it look like _they_ would do that?” he licked his lips and sighed. “I was just about to head home. If you feel like you need to make sure I do, I’m not going to stop you.” Walking past the guy, he stopped a few steps closer to the lip of the alley when the person spoke.

“What happened to your arm?”

“What makes you think something happened to it?” Bucky half-turned to glance at him.

The eyes of the mask lifted in shock and he immediately began to stutter as he spoke, with a speed that made Bucky’s head spin. “No, no. I-I just meant that, well…you know, the last time I saw you, I caught your arm…and well…the sleeve isn’t filled out enough for there to be an arm…Oh god, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to--”

“Jesus kid, it’s okay. Just take a breath.”

“I’m not a kid…”

Bucky’s lips parted and he squinted. Really looking at the suited person before him and he snorted, a smile creeping along his mouth. “You are, aren’t you?” He shook his head for what felt like the millionth time that night. “I fought a kid in an airport, and let me guess…you are the one that Tony has on standby here in case Steve needs help containing me.”

The kid shifted where he stood, nervously, and maybe a tad bouncily as if he had tons of energy and couldn’t stand still. He moved a hand, palm upright and fingers curled and shrugged. “Well…yeah. Mr. Stark said that you knew.”

Bucky swore he could practically see the sheepish smile on the guy’s face. What got him even more was the fact that he called Tony, Mr. Stark. He couldn’t help but rub his hand over his face. Whereas earlier he’d needed to empty his brain and didn’t want to sleep, now that was all he wanted to do. This conversation was exhausting. “I didn’t know it’d be—who…or _what_ even are you?”

“I’m Spider-Man,” the kid replied, his body doing that little bounce again. Like a damn proud puppy.

“Okay, and how old are you kid? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Bucky asked.

Spider-Man stepped closer, a feeling of needing to explain that he was mature enough to be out and about, just like all the other Avengers. Except in saying all that, he came to a shocked stop when he got close enough and Bucky pulled the mask right off of his head. Peter’s eyes were like saucers, hair slightly askew from being unmasked and his mouth hung open. No one had ever tried to do that before. “Ummm…”

“Fuck, you are just a teenager…” Bucky pressed the mask back into Peter’s hands as if it burned him. “And Tony made you an Avenger? Hell, he put you on _my_ detail?”

Peter’s face scrunched into confusion, with a hint of defensiveness. “Hey, I caught your fist--”

“Lucky.”

“And I’m clearly qualified enough to be an Avenger--”

“Baby Avenger.”

“I’m not a baby,” Peter huffed, his bottom lip poking out just a tad that Bucky’s eyes shifted to it. Slowly, blue eyes travelled over the features of Peter’s face and met Peter’s brown. Bucky’s expression there had him swallowing, shifting his feet and hands. “I’m 15.”

Bucky turned on his heel and exited the alley, beginning to head back home without so much as another word. He knew that the kid would follow him and he was right, he tried to keep up with his long strides. Bucky’s 6’0 frame an advantage to Peter’s 5’8. By the time he got behind the apartment building, where he’d made his escape, he was about to climb up when Peter landed in front of him. Blocking his path to it.

“Come on, move. You aren’t doing your job very well if you don’t let me go home,” Bucky reasoned.

“I am…if I’m asking if you are going to try and leave again…w-without permission…that is.” Peter folded his arms, trying to look as intimidating as Bucky appeared.

“I can’t promise that.”

Peter cocked his head to the side, the eye pieces on his mask narrowing in thought. “Why? Why did you sneak out tonight? If you don’t mind me asking…I mean…Why?”

He couldn’t help the small smile turning up the left side of his lips, the exhale a failed chuckle that couldn’t really form. “You really need to get better at this interrogation stuff and being confident in what you say,” Bucky informed and came toe to toe with the teen, looking up the fire escape with a big inhale and slowly let it out. “I get nightmares. Things that I…was made to forget.” His brows furrowed in both pain and confusion, lowering his face before rounding it up to once again look at the shorter boy. “They started back up again--”

“Now that you are back?”

Bucky gave a curt nod.

Peter stared at Bucky, and though he wanted to be good for not only Mr. Stark, but for the rest of the Avengers—being new and all—he didn’t want the man to feel trapped. That he couldn’t get out when he needed a breather. Otherwise, he would be quite the hypocrite wouldn’t he? He decided that if Mr. Stark told him to keep an eye on the Winter Solider, more than he was ordered to—more than being a helping hand for Steve, in case things got out of hand—then the least he could do was _really_ do his job. If Bucky wanted to sneak out again, he’d just have to offer himself up to watch over him. Like a bodyguard.

“Give me your phone,” Peter said, holding out his hand expectantly.

“Excuse me?” Bucky’s brows creased.

“I’m going to give you my number, then when you need to get away…you have backup…if you forget…or something…”

The teen’s reasoning was sound enough, but Bucky still couldn’t believe he was even doing what he was. He reached into his pocket and handed it over. Watching as the boy put in his information, even going as far as removing his mask to take a quick one eyed squished and tongue exposed selfie to attach it, before settling it back over his head and handing it back. Bucky looked at the open text message that was sent to what he assumed was the guy’s number. He took in the silly picture and the name beside it. “Thanks, Peter.”

Peter gave a two finger salute from his temple and reached an arm behind him, curling in the middle fingers to shoot out a web. “Anytime.” He disappeared and Bucky pocketed the cell in order to jump up and grab onto the fire escape to climb. Peter returned a second later, stuck to the side of the next building. “Whoa…one handed…that is so—I forgot to get your name.”

He grunted and pulled himself up, getting to his feet and brushing his hand along the side of his jeans. “Just call me Bucky,” he replied, glad that the rest of the way up involved ladder steps.

Bucky ignored Peter’s whispered comment about how it was such a weird name, and how he once more said goodbye before he swung off. Arriving at his window, he lifted it open and climbed inside. He shut it behind him and immediately shed his clothes, in need of a shower before putting the government issued tracker on his ankle. All the while, under the spray of water, he couldn’t help but think…

_‘And that kid caught my fist.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things to know as the story goes on:
> 
> **1.** Bucky is constantly thinking about how 'not right' his feelings and thoughts are for Peter with Peter being a minor, as they grow over time and as you will read throughout the story.
> 
> **2.** Whump starts in Chapter 3 and continues in Chapter 4.
> 
> **3.** Remember, a brief mention of past rape/non-con in Chapter 3 (I will also mention it at the beginning of that chapter when it comes to it). And dubious consent in Chapter 3.
> 
> **4.** Updates will be every Monday.
> 
> Comments and Kudos greatly appreciated. :D 
> 
> Thanks for reading! See you next Monday. ♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Nelalila for beta-reading. <3 <3
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention in the first chapter that the title for this story is a lyric from the song, "Waking Up" by Starset. :) That is all.
> 
> Enjoy!

It turned out that days later, Bucky took Peter up on his offer. He knew that night, before he even laid his head down, that sleeping would be a bad idea. The run through with B.A.R.F., actually did make him do what the acronym spelled out. Bucky had fallen to a knee, emptied his stomach onto the compound floor and quickly removed the sunglasses that allowed him to see into his past. No one blamed him…not even Tony, who’d gingerly taken the item back into his grasp.

_“F.R.I.,” Tony had called._

_“Yeah, boss?” the A.I. asked._

_“Have someone bring a mop and a ginger-ale for Barnes.”_

_“Right away, boss.”_

They’d tried to start with something small and basic. To see what memory would pop up first…if any. The minute the billionaire mentioned 2014—two years ago—the program went to work and recreated Alexander Pierce’s kitchen. If anything, he had expected the fight with Steve on the Helicarrier or what happened after that. Not what arose in front of them. It was nighttime and he was sitting in the shadows at the small breakfast table. Bucky furrowed his brows at not being able to really remember that ever happening, but the question from his handler about wanting some milk made his breathing pick up. His chest hurt. Not being able to answer…to want…to need…only to be treated like a thing. At witnessing it from outside himself, he suddenly felt that knot within. The sheer frustration that he couldn’t speak, because it wasn’t an order. He wasn’t a person.

Truth was, he _had_ been thirsty. A miniscule flood of knowledge spilled forth that they hadn’t given him anything to eat or drink for some time. Whereas in the present he had eaten breakfast, and the sight of Renata being shot with _his_ gun…unable to stop the death of an innocent woman, who happened to forget her phone...there was nothing ironclad about his stomach then. 

Bucky felt off since the session. Half-expecting to be reprimanded for a human reaction, one that had been trained out of him long ago. Something in his head told him that he needed to be reprogrammed. Put back in the chair, so he could forget what he should not have remembered. He wrote the feeling and thought down in the new journal on the ride back to the apartment.

When Steve asked if he wanted lunch, he said no. When the question came if he wanted to watch a movie—he really didn’t want to—he said yes to get through the day. Later, with dinner, he still said he wasn’t hungry and claimed it was because he had a big breakfast. He knew that Steve knew he was lying. Because it’d been a therapy day, the man didn’t push and Bucky couldn’t have been more grateful for that. He wasn’t in the mood to defend his actions and how he was trying to deal. So, once he heard Steve settle in his room and breathing evenly for a good solid hour, he texted Peter.

**BUCKY: Walk?**

**PETER: Yeah!**

**PETER: I mean, yeah…be there in 5.**

Closing his phone with a shake of his head, Bucky pulled on the same hoodie as last time and exited his window. His feet hit the ground, and he found it wasn’t long before the splat of a web came to his ears. Peter landed in front of him wearing normal clothes and his mask that he then took off and tucked into the back waistband of his jeans. Situating his shirt over it, the teen smiled big and wide. “Hey, Mr. Bucky.”

That made a small groan come from Bucky’s throat, as well as a wince to take over his features. Coming closer to the kid, he decided to keep the hood down. If he was walking with someone it would only look weird, rather than just ‘two friends’ hanging out. It might still look a little weird considering their difference in ages, but it was night and generally people avoided a glance at another in the dark, not wanting to draw any attention to themselves. “It’s _just_ Bucky. No Mr.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry. I didn’t…I…um…so where do you want to go?” Peter asked, quickening his pace when he saw that Bucky was still moving forward without him.

Bucky shrugged as Peter caught up and they walked side by side, going in a random direction much like last time. Except this time, Bucky had a companion on his little rebellious journey. “I don’t really know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, and it was further in than we are now,” Bucky replied. “Don’t remember much…”

Peter felt like he’d said something awkward, which was nothing new for him. Rather than apologize again, he sniffed and glanced around. He knew exactly where they were, and his hand reached out blindly to grab Bucky’s shoulder…the one with the empty sleeve. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh god, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t…I just…I…”

“Peter, it is okay,” the longer haired brunette assured, stopping in his tracks to stare at him. “You really need to stop apologizing so much.” Bucky sighed. “What were you going to say?”

Peter blushed and nodded a little too fast, but stopped when he realized it. “Um, well, there is some good pizza just a few blocks from here if you are hungry. I’m starved and, um, Aunt May, she kind of half-burned dinner. We ate it anyways, but I have to eat more. I go through it worse than a normal teenager should. You know?” His eyes widened a fraction and Bucky gave him a look, knowing he was about to apologize again. Clearing his throat, Peter changed his next words. “Oh, uh, I mean, of course _you_ know. Being a super soldier…and all…that…yeah…so, pizza?”

The second official time they had talked wasn’t any different than the first—Bucky didn’t necessarily count Germany. The teen spoke so much in so many breaths and seconds, it was tiring, sure, but it also helped take his mind off of things.

Bucky smiled softly and replied, “Yeah,” only to remember he didn’t have any money. At least none that he could use outside the apartment…where he was supposed to be, under house arrest…under lock and key. His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “I don’t--”

“Oh don’t worry, I can pay. Mr. Stark said that being an Avenger I get paid. Because it’s like a job…well, i-it is a job…but, not one I can necessarily explain to anyone other than my best friend Ned.”

He didn’t interrupt the kid to tell him no. Not like he could get a word in edgewise. Instead he followed him to the late night pizzeria. A hole in the wall of a place. It was perfect; not busy, he knew where the exits were, and there were only so many tables lining the shotgun style space. He took it upon himself to choose where they would sit, the instincts kicking in to be near an exit without having either one of their backs to the window. So they sat by the bathrooms, only after he took a quick look in to ‘wash up’ and make sure that the window was big enough to crawl out of. Otherwise, if something were to happen, the kitchen would have to be the way out. Bucky tried to relax when Peter came back from the counter, having placed their order of two large pizzas.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking this…uh…how did you lose your arm?”

Bucky quirked a brow and straightened, feeling a pop near the neck in his spine as he did so. “Which time?” It was almost funny to see the teen pale and immediately begin to fluster, Bucky couldn’t help but smile again. “I’m kidding, Peter.” Relief washed over Peter instantaneously. “And I don’t mind. From what I learned in the museum in D.C., I fell from a train. There were reports I found, from the information leak a couple years ago, that mentioned I lost it and was given the metal one you saw last. Recently, it was a rhino that lopped it off. Can’t complain,” Bucky tilted his head in a semi-shrug.

“A rhino?! That is so cool. Like, wait, where did you even run into a rhino? Was it in Wakanda? Mr. Stark said that you were staying with the King there, but did you step on a twig and freak it out? O-or did it--”

“Here you go.” The cashier set their pizzas down on the metal stands.

It was one of the reasons why Peter loved that place, it was fast because they already had pre-made classics ready to pop in the oven, while also still being fresh. Besides, it wasn’t like he went crazy with his order suggestions. Peter blushed and thanked the man as he retreated, waiting for him to be far enough away before inhaling and opening his mouth to continue.

“Peter.”

“Um…yeah?” Peter smiled.

“Slow. Down. Take a breath once in a while. Please, tell me you don’t drink coffee.” Bucky eyed him like a concerned parent. “Just because Steve and I did that back then, doesn’t mean kids should do that now. You have more options available to you, though soda isn’t any better.” Slowly his face turned into confusion, the last few words getting quieter at the memory that came out without even thinking about it.

Seeing that Bucky was having a moment to himself, Peter told him that he forgot the waters and went to go ask for two full glasses. When he came back, Bucky didn’t look any better from how he was searching the pizzas, as if they held all the answers. “Does that happen often?” Peter decided to ask, placing one water in front of the man.

“Now that I’m back around familiar things and people? Yeah. Sort of.”

The answer was short and there was no indication that he was going to expand on the topic, so Peter shifted the conversation. Once more another person had catered to his needs without Bucky asking them to do it, but he was still grateful. While they ate, they talked about little things. Mainly Peter with his school, his friend Ned, and a new friend named MJ that was the captain of their Decathlon team; how Peter missed Homecoming dance, but only because he had to stop his date’s dad from stealing stuff from Tony’s plane. That had Bucky staring at Peter long and hard. The word, though spoken in English, managed to make him uncomfortable. Just a little. The other reason he stared was the fact that Peter had pretty much been thousands of feet in the air, fighting on a plane until it crashed onto the beach…all to do what was right. It sounded like a thing Steve would have done. Then again, hadn’t Steve done something similar way back when?

Not wanting to get into rough territory—as he felt that is all he’d been doing that day—he asked if that was how he became an Avenger. He wasn’t wrong in saying Peter was a ‘Baby Avenger’, not only because of age, but because of how new he was to the title. Just mere weeks ago Peter was initiated into the superhero fold. And now here Peter was, sitting in front of the man he was supposed to keep an eye on, the both of them having devoured two pizzas. Bucky kind of admired Peter with all he’d done. It was clear that he could more than hold his own, and he’s proven himself to handle situations presented to him. Then again, it might not be the wisest decision to try and make friends with a brainwashed, mentally unstable, and almost, technically, 100 years old—though 32 years old from appearance—man. He sniffed and thanked Peter for buying dinner. Bucky had been hungrier than he initially thought, but maybe it was because he wasn’t trying to stay reserved.

They exited the pizzeria and headed to a nearby park, where Bucky watched Peter practically bounce around. Balancing on the backs of benches and the like. “Have you always had this much energy?” he asked.

Peter pivoted, a slight wobble in his balance, but he caught himself in a crouch and slid down to finally sit. “It’s mainly the effects of the bite. I was on a school trip last year and was bitten by some kind of spider, I don’t know what it looked like or what happened to it. But ever since then, I’ve been hyper aware and just can’t seem to sit still. Kind of drives May nuts, especially now that she knows, and Ben…” Peter dropped off and his face lowered to stare at his hands in his lap.

“You mentioned your Aunt, with the burnt dinner,” Bucky reminded him. “I’m guessing Ben _was_ your Uncle?” Peter nodded. “It’s tough to lose people you love,” Bucky paused to look away and scan the calm night. The older man didn’t need to ask about Peter’s parents, it seemed pretty clear on their status in Peter’s life…just like his Uncle. Doing what Steve and Peter had done for him that day, he changed the subject. Affording the sullen teen an out towards a lighter direction. “So, bitten by a spider, huh? That’s a new one.”

Peter lifted his head and smiled, a twinkle and crease in his eyes. “Yeah, it-it’s pretty cool. I can stop a car with my own hands and climb any surface. My web shooters,” Peter motioned to the cuffs on his wrists, “I made the formula myself and it dissolves after two hours for easy cleanup. My old suit was made out of a pair of sweats, but Mr. Stark’s is pretty—it’s um, pretty awesome.”

“What’s with the eyes on them?”

“Oh, it helps me focus better. Otherwise, I’m…kind of…all over the place, and Karen is nice too.”

“Karen?” Bucky asked, confused.

“The A.I. in my suit, like F.R.I.D.A.Y. for Mr. Stark, but also not like F.R.I.D.A.Y. Karen is different in her own way. I-I named her too. Hey, uh, do you wanna…maybe…do something really fun and cool?” Peter stood up, turning in a circle to make sure they were alone before pulling out his mask and pulling it on.

“I don’t know Peter, we should probably head back…”

“That’s okay. That actually works for what I want to show you,” Peter’s voice rose in excitement.

“What do you mean?”

Peter came closer, motioning his hands as if he was about to touch Bucky. “Can I…mind if I…it’s easier if we hold on to each other.”

“I guess, but Peter, what--”

The instant he spoke his consent, Peter’s arm wrapped around the right side of Bucky’s back and gripped into the belt loop on his left hip. Bucky reacted, and fisted his only hand into the shoulder of the thin jacket right when they shot up into the air. His legs wrapped around Peter’s left leg as he cursed. They swung from the park and down streets, to eventually land on the roof of Bucky’s apartment building. It’d been such a rush, and he’d been focused on not letting go or falling, that he still clung to the teen even when they were on solid ground. It wasn’t like he hadn’t flown or fallen from heights or whatever, but he could honestly say…

“Please, don’t do that again,” Bucky whispered as he swallowed thickly, removing himself from Peter entirely in order to run his hand through his windblown hair.

“I’m…I’m so…I’m really sorry, Bucky.”

Bucky walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down at the fire escape he would need to lower to, in order to get to his window. Glancing back at the teen, he could tell from his stance and voice that Peter was beating himself up over what he’d just done. Sighing, Bucky walked back over and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Look, it _was_ kind of cool. Thank you for showing me…but next time, let’s just stick to walking when we hang out…okay?” he said, giving a reassuring smile and squeeze with his touch.

Peter nodded and Bucky nodded along with him.

“Have a good night, Peter. I really appreciate tonight. Now go home, do…homework and stuff. I’ll text you when I want to go out again.”

He stood for a moment longer, even after Peter had swung off into the city, staring after and seeing how carefree the kid moved around. It made him long to be able to be like that one day. Soon. Maybe after the two therapies wound down, until he didn’t need them nearly as much. Maybe when the triggers were out of his head or more importantly…when he was no longer scared that his soul was permanently stained from all that Hydra did to. 

When Bucky crawled into bed and slept, he dreamed of flashes. Indiscernible memories that ended with him swinging through the night with Peter, and this time…actually enjoying the moment.

*

Weeks turned into months of not only therapy, but hanging out with Peter. They usually would grab a bite to eat, with Peter choosing the places to introduce to Bucky’s palate. Some of it the older man found he liked, while others…it was pretty clear they would avoid those from there on out. It got to the point that sometimes they would go back to Peter’s apartment, but only when Aunt May was working a double or night shift at the hospital. Which made Bucky feel slightly uncomfortable, what with Peter being a minor and Bucky being...well...not. 

He essentially got a culture shock, what with Peter seemingly determined to show him so many things. Star Wars was a huge part of it. Same with doing some LEGO sets that Peter had done countless times and never got sick of putting back together. They watched movies and shows, listened to music, play video games—Bucky would watch—and would flip through comics. Although, that last one was more Peter than Bucky. He didn’t really see the appeal of reading about people he knew. Especially Steve as his superhero persona, Captain America.

After the first comic, Bucky had found himself having gone within and coming back to awareness standing in the middle of the living room of Peter and May’s apartment. The poor kid had tears brimming in his wide brown eyes, having tried to get through to Bucky for the past half an hour. Bucky couldn’t have felt guiltier. The sessions with B.A.R.F. and the therapist were helping, but it also meant that he was easier to trigger. More open. That came with some risks and frequent nightmares. It was why he hung out with Peter pretty much every night the past month and a half. They hadn’t even touched on the trigger words yet, finding his reactions to normal poking and prodding of his brain to be a sign he wasn’t ready…that it was probably too dangerous, no matter if Tony had protocols with his A.I. Not unlike the Hulkbuster, used to contain the Hulk in case he became too enraged, they had a fly in package ready to encase Bucky in vibranium that was the equivalent of a straightjacket.

Thankfully, that had yet to happen. A huge stress on the word ‘ _yet’_.

It wasn’t to say that Bucky didn’t hang out with Steve too, he just found that when certain things were said or done by Peter…he preferred it. With Steve, there was always a sense that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Always cautious and treating him like a mother hen with her baby chick. He couldn’t blame Steve, not really, but the whole point of everything was to make him feel better. To let him have a life. But the fact that he would rather spend time with Peter was also cause for concern. He found himself almost laser focused on their text conversations throughout the day, anticipating sneaking out to meet up with the teenager. He even got to the point where he missed the kid’s smile and laugh. Peter had a light about him that drew Bucky in like a moth to a flame. He had to get to it, as if that light would rub off on him and make him better. Change him into a light as well, rather than some dingy, disgusting insect that could barely think for itself.

It border lined on the obsessive, so Bucky decided to bring it up to his therapist, only after making one hundred percent sure that whatever they spoke about stayed between them. He was assured that as long as it wasn’t something that harmed himself or others, what he said wouldn’t leave the room. Bucky swallowed, trying to determine if he should even say anything at all. Talking about Peter meant having to divulge the fact that he had been tricking his house arrest anklet and sneaking out. That he was friends with Tony Stark’s ‘intern’. Friends with Peter Parker. A minor.

A minor that Bucky started to feel things for on a confusing, possibly non-platonic, level. He was still trying to figure that out. He would talk with Steve about some of the women that Bucky used to date way back, when all of the people they knew had yet to be born. But he swore…he swore that maybe there was something else there. Otherwise, why would he wonder what it’d be like to kiss a man? To kiss Peter. To hold him lovingly, like those people did in the movies. So, rather than talk about Peter, he shifted last minute—casually so—into talking about his sexuality.

“I think I might be bisexual, but I’m not sure,” he finally said, his features drawing into a scrunch of uncertainty. “I can’t remember much beyond what Steve tells me, and I’ve started to have these feelings…”

“What kind of feelings?” Janice asked.

Bucky inhaled, straightening with a roll of his shoulders at the hint of tightness within them. He licked his lips and shook his head as his eyes lifted to meet hers. “That I want to kiss someone I shouldn’t. That maybe I look forward to their company more than I should.” He shifted slightly on the couch with a swallow. “They aren’t a woman, and I know that times have changed and liking a man isn’t illegal anymore or anything…but there are plenty of reasons why I _can’t_ like them. And I _really_ like them. More than a friend.”

He watched her process what all he said. Actually listening and having stopped writing before he had started to explain. Bucky liked Janice, she was a really good therapist. She’d served in the military with high honors. It put her through her schooling in Psychology, and she got a job at a company that Stark Industries put on retainer since the battle of New York with Loki and the Chitauri soldiers. She was damn good at her job and proved to Bucky on many occasions that he could trust her. She made him want to try and be better. Just like the other important people in his life.

“Who says you _can’t_ like them or that you _shouldn’t_ want these things? What you just told me is all a part of being human and finding out who you are as a person and what you want in life. You are allowed to want these things. All of it. But it sounds like you worry about it for a reason, that maybe…and this is just speculation—which, you know, I technically should not be doing--” Bucky knew. She’d voiced it often enough, but with how Stark was paying her to be more involved, she bent the rules. But _only_ because Tony insisted. “Could it possibly be that there is something, with all your instances with Hydra, that might make it more intense? Something that might make you question if it is healthy? Kind of like the status report that you told me about.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. That has crossed my mind too. With Hydra…my handlers…they would give me an assignment, and that was all I could think about. It didn’t always mean that I had to kill either, sometimes it was learning before acting on anything else. It’s almost as if that is what is starting to happen, but I can’t trust that my feelings are just that…feelings. I do know—at least, I think I know…that when you like someone, it can be nearly all consuming.”

“And that scares you. I understand.” Janice inhaled and looked down at her notes, deciding to write down an abbreviated version of what they had just spoken about, before she lifted her head and locked eyes with him. She gave a soft smile; warm and inviting. “How about I give you an exercise to try? If you feel these strong emotions, I want you to take a moment and breathe. Ask yourself some questions, such as: Is this person my mission? Is this person safe with me? Would I ever hurt this person if I allowed myself to enjoy their company?” She paused and tilted her head, her shoulders shrugging. “They don’t have to necessarily be those questions. I want you to find what best suits you and will help you break down that worry you have.”

There was a long moment where her face grew somewhat serious, concerned like how Steve sometimes got. If not a little protective. Tony Stark would be proud to know his order to ‘be more involved’ was working.

“James, _you are_ allowed to want all of these things and feel these things. Maybe, if you are up for it, talk with the person you are interested in. You don’t have to tell them how you feel about them, or you can even have them come to a session when you are ready to go there. Either way, they may be able to help put some of these fears to rest. You do not have to do this alone. Not anymore,” Janice finished.

Except, he did.

How could he tell Peter Parker, a 15 year old, that he liked him, let alone skirt around the fact that he had a crush on someone that wasn’t Peter...when it was Peter? How could he tell his new friend that Bucky was a pervert that wanted to kiss him? Maybe even more? Rather than tell Janice that she was wrong, Bucky gave a crinkle of his eyes and smiled as he nodded. Janice wasn’t too hard to fool, she’d seen every mask he’d tried to put on around her. Sometimes, she couldn’t tell, and he knew that unnerved her. He had been the Winter Soldier for a reason. This time, Janice had looked away before seeing that he had already decided he wasn’t going to bring it up. No matter the shape or form. What he was going to do, was take her first advice and root out any possibilities that he was treating Peter wrongly. Unjustly. Disgusting and perversely.

When he got back from his session, Steve was just finishing up his exercises in the living room. Despite having seen Sam at Bucky’s birthday party, Steve was unable to go on his morning runs with the man. In the end, there was only so much pull that Tony Stark had in terms of breaking house arrest. So, that left Steve having yet to find different avenues to pursue to expel pent up energy. It kind of drove Bucky nuts and, occasionally, the neighbors below. Steve had to modify the certain exercises he liked to do to keep the vibration and noise level down to a minimum. Seeing Bucky always seemed to light up Steve’s face, even if he’d had a hard session. He could tell that Steve appreciated having Bucky back in his life. It didn’t matter that they were wards of the country and state of New York, locked down and tracked. It didn’t matter that time had been taken from them. And it also didn’t matter that Bucky’s brain was still scrambled, like the eggs he’d eaten that morning.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Steve asked, going over to the kitchen where his water bottle was and began to drink.

The guy had a giant one from the sporting goods store, his hand pretty much swallowing it when he grabbed it, and both knew that it still didn’t contain enough ounces of water for Steve Rogers. For Captain America...

“About as good as your workout,” Bucky replied, giving a teasing half smile as he shrugged off the jacket he wore and hung it up on the hook by the door.

Steve shook his head and swallowed, trying to not blow all the water he’d just drank out of his big fat gob. Finally, mouth water-free, Steve sniffed and furrowed his brow. He sniffed a second time, but at his shirt, then himself and winced. “I’m going to take a quick shower…did you want to tell me about things first?”

Ever the hopeful and helpful friend. It was always the same question from Steve, wanting to know without pressing. But, in his own way, it still was. Bucky tried to tell Steve stuff that was discussed, that is, only if he wanted to know more about some memory or whatever that came up during. Steve was there to help clarify if it actually happened or not, much like the things he had in his journal that they’d worked out. Turned out, all of it had. Even though all of it was true, Bucky couldn’t seem to stop second guessing himself, and that was just the cherry on fucking top of all that he was going through. Not being able to discern his own thoughts and feelings, to trust that they were real or not. Hydra really had done a number on him. Janice had told him that would probably be the one thing that would take the most time to work on. To get over. Trusting himself in every way possible.

“Nah, it wasn’t all that interesting today. Just the usual, going through exercises and forming new ones. That sort of thing,” Bucky explained, his hand doing a little motion by the side of his head to show that it was all tangled wires inside. “You go shower. You’re starting to stink up the place. Where do we keep that spray? The one that is supposed to kill 99.9% of odors and shit?”

“Ha, ha. You’re _so_ funny, Buck.”

Bucky smirked and watched Steve head down the hall to the bathroom. Once the door shut, his face fell. He looked at the fridge, eyes flicking to the clock on the stove and trying to determine whether he was hungry or not. In the end, he pivoted and went to his bedroom. Passing by the bathroom as the water was running, he could faintly hear Steve humming to some tune from one of the old records the blonde liked to listen to. He shook his head at that. Steve really was the old man that Tony thought they were. Bucky at least _tried_ to like some of the current music. He had what Peter called an ‘eclectic taste’. Which, he figured, was just the teen being polite.

Shutting the door, he went over to his bed and flopped down on it to stare up at the ceiling. Bucky began to think about what he lately had begun to always think about. Peter. Inhaling, he shifted and felt a few things pop at the action, before he cleared his throat and swallowed. “Is he my mission?” His brows furrowed at the words that struggled to leave his mouth. Almost a whisper, strangled and small.

He waited for the hint of what normally came when the word _‘mission’_ was thrown around. The determination and ice cold tentacles that seemed to crawl up his skin and wrap around every cell, every body part and every organ. Squeezing the life and all resistance out of Bucky. It didn’t come. And it didn’t, because Peter wasn’t a mission…let alone Bucky’s mission. He sighed in relief, albeit a little shakily. That was the only question he could bring himself to ask out loud and focus on. Bucky didn’t know how long he was laying there in his own world, when his notification on his phone went off, saying, _“Do or do not, there is no try.”_ Peter had picked it for him to help give motivation, and also just because it was strictly Star Wars. The sound brought a smile to his face and he fixed himself to sit upright, leaning against the backboard of his bed before pulling the phone out and opening the text sent by the teenager.

**PETER: How was your session?**

If it wasn’t Steve, it was Peter asking the same damn question. Except, this time, Bucky felt like he didn’t want to hide and play it off. Not entirely.

**BUCKY: Helpful. I’m hoping the advice works. You know?**

He watched the three dots appear as Peter thought and replied. Watched as it stopped and paused and picked up again, knowing that the kid probably deleted what he’d originally said. Peter had kind of come to be predictable.

**PETER: Yeah, I do…**

“Right…parents and Ben…fuck…” Bucky breathed out and winced slightly.

**BUCKY: How is school? You getting ready for the big Valentine’s dance?**

Bucky paused.

**BUCKY: Have you asked MJ yet?**

That question sent a pang of hurt into his chest, but he would always try and be Peter’s friend first. Hell, he’d ignore whatever feelings he had for Peter as long as he could. He’d take it to the grave, no matter how far off or close that was. However, that also meant that he should try and find people that he might want to date. Really and truly see if he was as interested in men as he was with women. It’d been far too long. The only problem was, he would need to get clearance. Not only from the government, but from Tony and Shuri, Steve…even Janice…though he figured she had kind of already given him the go ahead. But why? Why would Janice tell him to express his feelings for someone she knew nothing about? Unless…

“Oh fuck…” he groaned and pressed the hand holding the phone against his face.

If what he thought was true, Janice probably thought he had a crush on one of two people that he saw regularly. Even spoke about during their sessions, because she didn’t—no one knew that he was sneaking out in the night. No one knew that he was hanging out with Spider-Man, the one person that was supposed to be keeping an eye on him in case Steve needed help containing him. In case he blew a gasket. No, Janice assumed that he had a crush on either Tony fucking Stark…or Steve. He didn’t know which was worse.

The notification going off multiple times in his face had Bucky pull the phone back and look at what had been said. He hadn’t realized that it had taken Peter a bit to reply, all while Bucky had been having a revelation. No wonder Janice gave him the advice to talk to the person he was interested in. The whole, ‘they will help’, spiel was a no brainer now that he realized that either person she assumed he liked would be beneficial to his figuring out his own stuff. Thing was, he was pretty sure Tony was bisexual…the man had a record like no one’s business, and he sometimes would say flirty things to ease the situation or make Bucky laugh. Make anyone laugh, really. Though, the more he thought about it, Bucky didn’t _not_ think that Tony wasn’t attractive in his own way. But it was the thought of Steve, his best friend since they were kids, that immediately just shut his brain down and the walls of infinite no’s go up.

**PETER: No! MJ is _JUST_ a friend, Bucky. Nothing more. Seriously.**

**PETER: As far as school, same old same old. Um, been really enjoying physics lately, and even worked on a new formula for my webs. They are stronger and even better in the dissolving area than the last one. Because even after two hours, there was still some gunk leftover…and…I’m rambling…**

**PETER: Bucky?**

**PETER: Oh god, did I just completely scare you off? Am I annoying you? I’m so sorry!**

Bucky shook his head and switched over to call. He knew he threw off Peter from the surprised and stuttering, ‘hello’ he received.

“Stop freaking out. Take a deep breath. I was just…I was just having a moment. My own thoughts getting in the way of things again,” Bucky said.

“Oh…OH…okay. Yeah, that makes sense. S-sorry,” Peter replied, stopping to remember to breathe and Bucky smiled wide at hearing it audibly over the speaker.

“There you go.”

It took a few more moments where they just stayed like that, matching up with each other’s breathing, until Peter laughed nervously. Bucky could imagine that Peter was rubbing the back of his head, shuffling his feet and looking down with that cute blush of his. No. Not _cute_. Bucky’s jaw tightened and his teeth practically ground together. He wanted to ask the question out loud, like Janice had told him to, but being on a phone call with Peter prevented him from having the luxury of privacy.

“So, you want to hang out tonight? I’m just finishing up my homework at Ned’s. He’s in the bathroom right now. Which can take a bit. Oh, oh god, why did I just say that? Ned is going to kill me,” Peter sighed. “But we can go see a movie? Or grab something to eat? Or both? Aunt May is home tonight, so we can’t be at my place…Not until Tuesday, though as you know that can change.”

Bucky nodded. He did know. “Um…” he began, wanting to tell Peter that maybe tonight wouldn’t be that great of an idea. That Peter should really go and hang out with people his own age…not that Peter didn’t do that during the day, but maybe he should do all of those things he mentioned with Ned and MJ. Maybe even with May.

“Come on, Bucky. It sounds like we both need a nice night out. Besides, I like h-hanging out with you.”

_‘Damn it, Peter,’_ Bucky thought.

Taking a deep inhale in, Bucky held it in for far too long before he let it out. “I like hanging out with you too…” Bucky swallowed and licked his lips, mentally cursing himself. “Okay, fine. Meet me outside at our usual time.”

The thousand watt smile was practically evident in Peter’s voice as he spoke. “Great! I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you finally met my Original Female Character listed in the tags. Janice. The Therapist. :D What do you think of her?
> 
> Now, I do not have a degree in psychology and am not an expert in how psychology is practiced, so I am going to be off with her methods and stuff. I'm only using what little experience I have with therapy in the past, for depression and anxiety, to go on as well as that one time I took Psychology in High School 10 years ago. Like I said, this is fiction...and Tony pays her to break some rules of her field to see results.
> 
> Anyways...Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated. See you next Monday for Chapter 3 (where, if you recall, some of the tags and the warnings I mentioned in the previous chapter come into play). <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: This chapter contains the following...Brief mention of Past Rape, Dubious Consent, Whump. This is where some surprise shit not mentioned in the tags also comes into play. If you are uncomfortable with any of these things or dark themes (on any level of darkness), then please do not read. The attention to the warning tags in the first chapter, and now, are here for a reason. If you ignore this and you find yourself uncomfortable while reading, that is your choice and yours alone. 
> 
> Also, a HUGE thanks to my beta-reader Nelalila!! She is an awesome person and writer, so please go check out her stories. Especially if you like Peter Parker and dark themes. :D
> 
> Enjoy!!

No matter how hard he tried to stay away, Bucky couldn’t. Peter would send him a text, call or video chat and immediately his resolve would melt. Even when Bucky’s birthday came around and Tony threw him a party at the compound…he couldn’t avoid Peter. Tony actually considered it the first official moment they met, having no knowledge about their late night excursions other than Peter and Bucky themselves. “Not including the time I had him contain you and Wilson,” Tony explained.

“You mean _tried_ to contain. _Tried_ ,” Sam had cut in, his face turned sour at the memory as he took a sip from his beer.

All in all, Bucky found himself enjoying his birthday, more than he had in the past two years on the run. Then, when the day had arrived, Bucky had known that his birthday should have meant something. That he should have felt something, after reading the date on his frosted glass eulogy at the museum. Now, where he stood, surrounded by people that either fought by his side or against him, with an old friend mixing with the new ones he’d made since Wakanda…Bucky finally felt home. He felt like James Buchanan Barnes. He felt like _Bucky_.

By the time the end of March came, and along with it Spring Break for Peter, Bucky had been showing great improvement, not only with his sessions with Janice, but with Tony and Shuri as well. The trigger words were the next biggest hurdle to climb over, having worked through lost memories and healing the damage done to the Hippocampus. Though his body could heal like Steve’s could—just not as fast, and the difference being as little as an hour to two days—the machine used to electrocute his brain left scarring that was taking longer to fade. Bucky had only been out of the ice for almost three years, but the damage had been there for far longer.

He’d been conditioned by a form of ‘trial and error’ torture, not to mention god knew what else. Tony and Shuri hadn’t really delved too much for the sake of taking it slow. To top it all off, the final nail in the coffin was that he’d been forced into cryo to lock in all that Hydra did to Bucky; cement everything and prevent him from aging, from living.

Apparently, Steve had also struggled a bit when he’d come out of the ice. It was hard for them to know or even imagine what that would mean for Bucky, having constantly been taken in and out of that situation. But it helped to know that he hadn’t been alone and that Bucky could talk to Steve about their shared experience, no matter how small it was.

It was almost a relief, that in all that progress, Bucky was finally allowed to leave the apartment beyond the original allocated places he could visit. Just as long as he had company, whether it was Steve or his own government issued detail, or there was that one outing with Tony…that wasn’t…all bad. In fact, Bucky noticed that the outing with Tony had been pretty nice. He started to look at the man with a different eye, to see if there was any attraction there, but in the end, Tony was more of a friend. Kind of like how Steve was, but there were differences. Boy, were there _differences_.

Bucky enjoyed his time outside, what little freedom he’d gained. It didn’t make him feel nearly as guilty for sneaking out as much as he had in just over the last five months he’d been back in New York. Being able to go out during the day and walk the streets with the sun shining down on him, he couldn’t have been happier. The natural boost the rays gave, made it so that his outings with Peter grew fewer and far between in April. It didn’t mean they didn’t still talk, it just wasn’t in person. They both acted like it wasn’t that big of a deal considering Peter had school, prepping for the end of his sophomore year, and the patrols he’d been doing in the neighborhood. There were some occasions that Peter was called in for an Avengers mission, but Tony tried to keep it where Peter wasn’t absent from New York. After all, Bucky was his main charge, and until the trigger words were removed, he was still a huge risk to society.

In that time, Bucky ran into a guy at the grocery store. The fact that he only had one arm and didn’t want a cart, made it quite the meet cute when the can of green beans missed the basket in the bent of his elbow and rolled away. Eric was his name. However, Eric didn’t last long after the extreme vetting system put in place for anyone interacting with James Barnes. They’d been on one date that involved food and dancing, having made it off to a dark corner to make out and rut against each other before Bucky’s guards found them. That was the last Bucky saw of Eric, but it was also the first instance that confirmed he did in fact like men. Maybe even more than he liked women, from what he could remember of his last date with a female.

The whole event went straight to Tony, then spread to Steve, and finally to a majority of the Avengers. Though, that was more of an accident when Tony was asking questions during their next scheduled session. Natasha overheard, and the rest was history. Which wasn’t a big deal…until his phone started to blow up. Bucky sighed, knowing who it was before he even got home from the compound. He climbed the stairs to Steve’s and his apartment floor, saying bye to the men he’d grown used to following him as they entered their own apartment at the end of the hall. The second he opened the door and got inside, he knew that he wasn’t alone. More importantly, Bucky knew that Steve wasn’t there. It was _someone else._

Hardening his features, his eyes scanned the area, naturally going into the training hardwired into his system. It wasn’t until he got to his bedroom and saw sneakers kicking back and forth at the foot of the bed, that Bucky began to relax. He knew those shoes. “Peter…” Bucky started, about ready to lay it on Peter about how the teen nearly gave him a heart attack. Technically, that would have been an over exaggeration, but he wanted Peter to know how dangerous it was to sneak up on Bucky. Especially after a session day.

“You’re gay?” Peter asked, sitting up from where’d he’d been laying down and looking at his phone, waiting for the older man to text him back. “I mean…not that there’s anything wrong with that…I just…I mean…that’s cool. I-I had no idea.”

Bucky shrugged off his jacket and tossed it into the hamper; he’d worn it enough that past week that he needed to wash it. “Bi, actually. And…neither did I. Not really.”

Peter cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brows. “Oh…” He paused, and scooted forward, somewhat bouncily, on the mattress. “Really?”

Bucky chuckled and leaned against the dresser. It was beyond weird to have Peter in his apartment, and even weirder to have the teenager on Bucky’s bed after he hadn’t seen him in over a week. “Eric asked me out on a date, and I’d already been curious.” Bucky cleared his throat at the awkward feeling, making him shift his hips and shrug with a wince. “It’s still pretty new. Though, it isn’t like I could really do much about it. As soon as—you know what? That is enough talk about my sexuality and dating life.” Bucky pushed off and came closer to tower over Peter. “Why are you _here_?”

The way that Peter stared up at him with wide eyes and lips parted slightly, with a blush beginning to creep over his round cheeks—God, the things Bucky wanted to do...The muscle in Bucky’s jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth and tightened his fist. Peter must’ve seen the change and slowly, calmly, stood up with his hands showing. As if Bucky was a police officer or wild animal let loose in a zoo. The latter was actually far more accurate, according to Bucky.

“I…Um…I came to see if you were alright. We haven’t seen each other in a while, and sometimes you don’t even answer my texts. I worry about you. You’re my friend, Bucky,” Peter replied.

It wasn’t the answer that Bucky wanted to hear, but it was the answer that was 100% Peter Parker. Bucky closed his eyes and let out a shaky exhale through his nostrils, rolling his head jerkily down so that his chin nearly touched his chest. “But I can’t be. Not anymore, Peter. I should have done this a long time ago…when I first noticed it…”

“Noticed what? Wait…what are you talking about? Wha-what…Bucky?”

Peter stepped closer and put a hand on Bucky’s bicep. The sound of Peter’s voice warbling and the touch had Bucky opening his eyes to stare at the shorter—younger—person. Bucky shrugged out of the grip, stumbling back a bit to gain distance. He should have seen the teenager still standing before him, but his brain began to trick him. The session, after the questioning by Tony, prompted some less than satisfactory images of being touched. It was minimal then, whereas now…now Bucky just saw his handler, telling Bucky to grip harder and move his hand faster. Making Bucky touch the handler’s dick and jerk him off to completion while telling the asset what to do and how good he was being. That Bucky was just a mindless fuck that needed direction. So eager for touch, and that that was how they would let him have it.

“Bucky?”

A whimpering mess of a man stood before Bucky now, cornered and shaking. The Asset had been given a reward for a job well done. No one was in the mood to give the soldier what he had grown to crave, thanks to them. So they gave him the next best thing, a spy that tried to get away with information that Hydra was still fully operational. If news got out that they hadn’t been destroyed all those years ago, then their plans would be harder to complete when the time came. There was still so much work to be done. They gave the Asset the spy to do with as he wished, then later they would make him dispose of his reward. No loose ends. However, the Asset would cherish every moment until then. Bucky growled, taking the last few steps needed to press his body flush against the small man’s. He didn’t care that the scenery had changed, nor the man looking younger and familiar. It all meant the same thing.

“B-Bucky, please…y-you’re scaring me,” Peter stuttered, tears shining in his eyes.

Hard, cold, blue eyes watched a tear break free and roll down a delicately soft cheek. The sound of the front door being unlocked had him pulling Peter around, so that Peter’s back was to Bucky’s front. His hand covered Peter’s mouth as he backed up and kicked the bedroom door shut, in order to press his back to it. Bucky buried his face into the teenager’s neck, humming gruffly, a sign for Peter to keep quiet.

“Buck? Are you alright in there?” Steve called down the hall.

“Yeah…just, not…dressed. That’s all,” Bucky replied.

“Okay, well, I’m going to take a quick shower and then I’ll throw that frozen lasagna in the oven. Or did you want me to order in?”

Peter couldn’t help but struggle a tad, which earned his nose being pinched shut to block the last bit of air going into his lungs. “I’m good with the lasagna,” Bucky called back.

Steve gave one last unintelligible word before a door clicked shut. That was when Peter really started to struggle, fighting for oxygen that Bucky was depriving him. Peter knew he should have fought back, and he tried…he really did, but Peter surprisingly found that Bucky was stronger in _this new_ mindset. Focused and determined. It was frightening to the teen. Peter meant it when he said that Bucky was his friend, which meant that he wanted to show _said friend_ that Peter trusted Bucky wouldn’t hurt him. Peter wanted to show Bucky that he trusted Bucky would come back to himself before anything bad happened. When it all went black, Peter hoped he had made the right decision.

*

Bucky came to, standing in an abandoned warehouse. His ears picked up the sound of water, which told him it used to be for trading goods. Whether it was domestic or international was no longer important, seeing as it wasn’t in use. What bothered him was why the hell did he come there? Bucky winced at the headache pressing behind his eyes and into his temples, deciding that when he got home, he would see about putting an ice pack or something on it. Maybe drink one of those teas that Steve recommended and stocked up on. Turning around, Bucky froze as his heart plummeted. His face paled and he felt like he was really going to be sick, because sitting in an old office chair—the wheels removed so it couldn’t roll away—was Peter Parker, bound by a mixture of thick chains and his own web material.

Flashes of memory bombarded him of smothering Peter to knock him out, taking off Bucky’s ankle device, and removing anything that could be used to track or could be made into a tracker—which wound up being everything—before putting on one of the web slingers from Peter’s wrist. How he left the apartment with one arm and Peter’s unconscious body was a mystery to him. Bucky’s legs wobbled and he fell to a knee as his body shook. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, hoping beyond hope that what he was seeing was all a dream or some figment of his imagination. _Just something_ , because in no way could he believe that would ever hurt Peter and fucking kidnap him. Peter was supposed to be the safe one. Peter was supposed to be able to fight back and stop him if things went south, like they clearly did. Why didn’t Peter fight back?

Lifting his head and opening his eyes, Bucky folded his other leg under to rest fully on both knees, sitting on the heels of his shoes. He assessed the unconscious teenager with a hard stare. The way Peter breathed and how peaceful he looked like that, it was mesmerizing. It wasn’t the first time that he’d seen Peter sleep, what with countless times of watching a movie or a show where Peter would kind of zonk out on the couch. But he’d never stared then, in fear of waking Peter up…or allowed himself to give in to that urge. Peter was forbidden and unattainable. Yet, Bucky had Peter now. Bucky had taken him and tied him up with the clear purpose of keeping him. That part of Bucky couldn’t seem to understand that people could not be owned. It reminded him of that first night, where he saved a woman from a possessive man. Bucky had said something to the effect of ownership and how it was illegal. Apparently, no one told the dark corners of Bucky’s fucked up brain that.

The sessions were making that part almost volatile and unpredictable. Every new thing he uncovered in the healing process of his mind, he felt like he was losing time. That was actually something he hadn’t said to anyone. Not a single soul…he’d just been given the opportunity to go more places, and he didn’t want to worry anyone. When Bucky usually lost time, he’d be standing in the same place or, at the very least, remain in the same room. But _this_. Kidnapping Peter and disappearing...

“Oh, god…Steve…” Bucky whispered, his eyes moved frantically. He caved in his back to put his face into his palm and make himself feel smaller than he was. “Fuck…Tony. Tony is going to kill me.”

_‘He didn’t kill me because of his parents, but he will definitely do so now that I’ve taken the youngest Avenger. The kid is practically his son from what Peter has told me about their interactions. Fuck, fuck, fuck,’_ Bucky thought.

A sharp inhale and small groan flitted to Bucky’s ears, causing him to flinch and only move his eyes. His hair curtained forward, almost in an attempt to hide his face, though it wasn’t doing a good job. Bucky wasn’t ready to full on look at Peter as the teen came to. Just seeing Peter wince, while trying to focus his eyes and work through all the confusion muddying his thoughts…all before the revelation and jerking in the bindings…it made Bucky’s chest ache. _He_ did that to Peter. Bucky. James Barnes. The Asset. Every part of his soul and fiber of his being caused those emotions and reactions.

Upon noticing he was being stared at, Peter’s brown eyes slowly found Bucky kneeling a few feet away, looking like the horrible shit Bucky felt that he was. “Bucky?” Peter’s voice shook.

Bucky shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Peter,” he whispered, inhaling on the verge of a sob. “I…I…Why didn’t you fight back?” He lifted his head then, tears eager to fall at the slightest blink, but he refused to let them.

Peter sighed and clenched his fists. There was a deep sorrow within his features as Peter seemed to try and find the words. Finally, Peter relaxed. What shocked Bucky the most was the lack of hate or fear…or at least an insane amount that anyone would have been feeling right then. Peter looked exhausted and maybe even a little parched, as if he had been there far longer than just a couple hours. Bucky’s eyes widened, and that is when the tears finally fell.

“You don’t remember what all happened, do you?” Peter asked.

“No. Nonononononono. I didn’t—It was—It was _just_ fucking _today_!” Bucky ground out desperately. But the patches of dust and dirt on Bucky’s clothes didn’t lie upon closer inspection. They spoke of days of wear and even his hair was oilier, making his scalp itch slightly. It smelled of salt, which meant somewhere along the line he had tried to wash it with the water outside.

It was Peter’s turn to shake his head and start to cry. “No, Bucky. I-it wasn’t. It’s been a few days.”

*

**Friday: April 28 th, 2017**

Peter woke up in an unfamiliar place, bound with chains and his own web formula, with Bucky looming over him completely devoid of the person he knew. It was like the time when he couldn’t get Bucky to respond or react to him in the apartment. When Bucky had lost track of what happened, and disappeared into a memory of some kind. Except, this… _clearly_ …was different. Whereas then, Bucky’s face had been blank, now there was someone home. Someone that was dark, cold and wouldn’t think twice about snapping Peter’s neck, let alone a person’s out on the street. Peter panicked. His decision had not panned out the way he had hoped it would, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still _hope_. Maybe if Peter could talk to Bucky and get through this version of him, Bucky could let Peter go and they could talk to Tony. Tony would help. He was smart and great that way.

Peter went to open his mouth, only for Bucky’s arm to twist and use the web slinger to shoot a quick burst of webbing over Peter’s lips. Peter had not expected that, not one bit.

“I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. No screaming. No trying to call for help, or I will break a bone in your body. I will continue to break more if you can’t keep your voice down and cooperate. Understood?” Bucky asked.

Peter nodded fast, not wanting to anger the older man.

“Good. If you are going to be _mine_ , you will do as I say…when I say it…” Bucky paused. “I need to toughen you up and get you ready to be on the move. It won’t be long until they will start to notice you are gone as well. They are most likely, currently, scouring the city for me…my old mission will have found that I was missing and the anklet by now.”

Peter could tell that Bucky noticed that he was trying to take all the words in. Thankfully, Bucky continued to explain.

“I sent a text to Ned before discarding your phone. I told him that May thought you would be staying at his place for the weekend because you had to go on a mission Tony Stark put you on and didn’t want her to know. A mission more dangerous than May would want you to be on. Ned is a good friend, he responded instantly and told you to be safe. May’s text was sent shortly after. So, you won’t be missed until Monday at the latest, when you don’t show up for school or come home.”

Peter wanted to ask so many questions, like what was Bucky going to do with him? Bucky made it sound like they were going to be leaving together and travelling. What did it mean that Peter was Bucky’s? Of course, before now that was all that Peter had ever really wanted, but knew that he couldn’t have. Not while he was still under 17, the legal age of consent in New York. Yet, even then…he wasn’t sure that Bucky even liked him back. Though, what was happening now and being said, it made him question if Bucky did. It sure sounded like it, in some way. Then again, it could just be that Bucky liked Peter enough as a friend to take him with him. Peter remembered all the times that Bucky had told him that he didn’t talk with Steve like he did with Peter, because Steve worried too much. Steve hovered and pressed, and in the end just wouldn’t understand. Bucky’s words, not Peter’s.

The teen felt bad for essentially replacing Steve as Bucky’s best friend. Even more so now. If Peter hadn’t come into the picture and insisted on hanging out with Bucky, then maybe it would be Steve who would have stopped Bucky. Maybe Steve would have noticed the signs and not triggered Bucky, because _Peter did that_. Peter triggered Bucky somehow, though he swore Mr. Stark said words needed to be spoken in order to do such a thing. Obviously, something had changed in the rules of brainwashing since then. Peter couldn’t help but think that this was a failsafe put into place of triggering the Winter Soldier, so that in case someone tried to fix Bucky…they would get this amalgamation of the two. It was a great way of being able to fool those around Bucky, while still being compliant with whatever orders were imprinted in his brain.

It wasn’t like Tony hadn’t shown Peter the videos of the Winter Soldier, just so Peter knew what he would be dealing with. The fact that Bucky was actively talking and not acting robotic or waiting for orders to be given, made it clear that it was Bucky. The almost clinical planning and detached execution of said plans, were the Winter Soldier.

Peter brought his thoughts back to ‘needing to be toughened up’. Did that mean Bucky was going to try to change and train Peter? Problem was, once Bucky had finished telling him about the texts to May and Ned, there was no more talking. The rest of the day was spent watching Bucky go through what Peter assumed was a burner phone, typing and tapping with a one track mind. Whatever mysterious plans Bucky had, they were taking up all his attention. Until the two hours were almost up and Peter got webbed again. After the bindings were refreshed, Bucky stepped outside when the sound of a car pulled up. Peter could vaguely hear the exchange of a paper bag, a nervous joke about where Bucky lived from another guy, and a quick thank you from Bucky before he returned. The sight and smell of food made Peter’s stomach growl violently, the webs on his mouth just beginning to dissolve. Which reminded Peter that he told Bucky—constantly—about how long it would take for them to do so, not to mention the upgrade in formulas and the improved refill and storage capacity.

There were four paper bags of food; two were in Bucky’s teeth, two cradled in between arm and chest, while his hand held onto a holder with four drinks. Bucky crossed his legs and slowly, expertly, sat down on the concrete facing Peter so that their shoes were touching. Letting the bags in Bucky’s arm fall onto his lap, Bucky set the drinks to his right and removed the remaining bags from his mouth, absent-mindedly stretching his jaw. Peter’s hungry eyes followed the food being laid out, counted, and portioned. The rest was packed away for later consumption. Food was placed in Peter’s lap without any real way of being able to eat it. Bucky unwrapped his sandwich to eat with unwavering and unblinking eye contact.

Once the webs over Peter’s mouth had dissolved completely, Peter worked his own jaw in mimicry of what Bucky had done moments before. Peter’s breathing hitched in an attempt to hold back the whimper wanting to leave his chest, at not just the food he couldn’t eat, but his situation. “Can I please eat?” Peter asked quietly, voice strangled with the emotion threatening to spill out.

Bucky tilted his head and took another bite, chewing almost mockingly. As if to silently say, _“I don’t know, can you?”_ It immediately threw Peter back to grade school, when the teachers were trying to instill the proper way to ask permission for things they wanted to do. Like going to the bathroom, which annoyed the ever living crap out of every student.

“ _Will_ you please help me, so that I may eat?” Peter rephrased.

That seemed to be the right thing to say. Bucky wrapped his half-eaten sandwich and set it down, reaching for one of the drinks to take a few gulps from before he even thought about shifting closer onto one knee. Despite being harsh and not in his right mind, the older man fed Peter with care. Gingerly urging, Bucky titled his chin downward to ask, without asking, if Peter was ready for another bite. Bucky helped Peter until the sandwich and chips in the teen’s lap was gone. The straw coming into sight relieved Peter; however, the stern order to take only two small sips and no more, were the hardest parts. It made sense for Bucky to not want Peter to fill his bladder. That would mean having to allow him bathroom breaks more frequently. More possible chances for Peter to try and get free. No, Peter’s only hope of that happening would be when the web capsules ran out. If Peter was lucky, Bucky hadn’t found the refills in the pouch he kept in his back pocket…but Peter found that very unlikely, with how thorough the longer haired brunette could be.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered, licking his lips as the straw departed.

“Don’t thank me yet. Once I can find a way for us out of here, you’re going to help me finish what I started,” Bucky grunted, sitting back down to finish eating his own sandwich.

Peter took a deep breath in. “What is that, e-exactly?”

“Take down the last tendrils of Hydra still slithering about.”

“Sure…yeah…I-I can help you do that. But…um...how do you know where they are? If you don’t mind me prying.”

Bucky sniffed and cricked his neck, cleaning his teeth with his tongue the best he could from the bread that stuck there. “I remember the safe houses. I remember…some faces…the ones that matter, and the information drop after D.C. has helped too. Unfortunately, I’m the only one who seems to care about full eradication instead of just forcing them into hiding. If one head is cut off, two more shall take its place,” Bucky trailed off darkly, eyes narrowing and opening his mouth wide to finish the last bite of his meal.

The teen got chills down his spine at the last sentence, as if it was something burned into Bucky’s blood. A saying that the man lived by—or used to—but it tasted acrid on Bucky’s tongue now that he could voice his own opinion. Peter went back to focusing on the other word, the one that was more important than a simple phrase or horrible motto. Eradicate. Bucky meant to hunt these people down and kill them and remove them from the earth…snuff out their lives. Was this what Bucky had been doing before the fight at the airport? Before Bucky himself, was flushed out of hiding? Peter really didn’t want to help Bucky kill people, that isn’t what Spider-Man did. Peter was a friendly neighborhood superhero. He saved Mr. Delmar and his cat from the burning deli. Peter webbed up fiends and left notes for the police or a Good Samaritan to find. It looked like Peter really had to try and get through to Bucky before the man found a way out of New York.

“You wouldn’t really…make me…kill…would you?” Peter asked.

The question seemed to throw Bucky off guard as he cleaned up the two wrappers and went to stand. Bucky blinked twice before resuming his actions, acting as if he hadn’t heard Peter.

“P-please, Bucky. Don’t do this. I…I won’t tell Tony or Steve…I won’t tell anyone, but you can’t honestly think that I would cross that line…”

“Like I have?” Bucky snapped, his head turned with the words. The older man walked up to Peter, bound in the chair, and fisted his hand into the top of the teen’s hair to pull back a bit. Bucky sneered, face close. “Do you think _I_ had _a choice_ , like you do? _A choice_ is privilege that isn’t afforded the fist of Hydra. _A choice_ doesn’t matter when men you’ve trusted and been told to keep alive, die all around you because you walked into a situation completely out of your hands.” Bucky winced, craning his neck to the left and down as if what he just said, and the memories that came with them, physically pained him. It was almost a fight to stay in control.

Peter’s bottom lip quivered, tears blinking from his scared eyes. “I-I’m sorry.”

Bucky opened his eyes at that, clenching his jaw as his breathing grew more audible. “This will be better for you than you can see right now. I will make it so then I know you can survive impossible odds, and in the end, do what needs to be done if I go deeper inside. I won’t remember you or care that you are a kid. I won’t remember that you are _mine,_ and I won’t care if you say you are sorry. I won’t stop until you are dead, if that is what is ordered…if I start to see you as my mission, rather than my reward.”

Peter’s brows furrowed, face heartbroken and pleading to understand. Bucky didn’t want Peter to kill just _anybody_ …Bucky wanted Peter to kill… _Bucky_.

“What do you mean…yours…and reward? Is this…did I trigger you…somehow?” Peter mumbled.

The grip on Peter’s hair loosened a tad, smoothing down so Bucky could cup the side of Peter’s face. The touch was soft, and Bucky’s expression turned thoughtful and caring. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Peter didn’t want to dare hope that Bucky felt the same about him as he felt about Bucky. It all started that day they went out for pizza, when Peter saw Bucky relax, even just a little bit. The best part was holding Bucky as Peter swung them back to the apartment that night…Though Peter talked about MJ and liked her too, Bucky was easier to talk to. Bucky knew Peter for who he really was, because Bucky himself was a part of the world Peter kept secret. Not to mention, the man was handsome, and the way Bucky would try not to smile while shaking his head at something Peter did or said…how could Peter not like Bucky?

“I don’t want to assume anything, Bucky. I--” His words were cut off when Bucky closed the distance and pressed his lips to Peter’s.

The kiss had some pressure, making it feel a little possessive, but Peter also felt Bucky trying to be delicate. The two internal versions stuck in the middle, fighting for dominance in the body they shared. Even though Peter would have loved to be kissed by the man he’d grown to know and care for, he accepted the kiss all the same. Peter sighed out a moan, opening his mouth in hopes of deepening the kiss. To taste Bucky. Except, the sound the teen had made was what stopped Bucky from going further. Bucky pulled away abruptly, breathing beginning to hasten while looking like he was about ready to punch something…or scream. Maybe both.

“Bucky…” Peter swallowed and licked his lips, sighing at the hint of a lingering taste that was left there. “It’s okay. I…I…”

But he never got to finish explaining that Bucky didn’t do anything wrong. At least, not what Peter hadn’t already wanted to happen, but he understood. Peter was underage and that was something that Peter had been worrying about for months. The last thing he wanted was for someone to get in trouble. Peter watched Bucky stalk away to the far side of the warehouse and exit out the door there, the sound of water easier to hear. Even if Peter could hear it well enough, regardless of the door or not, it wasn’t lost on Peter that Bucky left him alone without webbing covering his mouth. So far, that was a good sign. It meant that Bucky trusted Peter to not do anything…or Bucky was too wrapped up in his own issues to notice. Part one of Peter’s plan to get through to Bucky seemed to be working. Then again, Tony did tell him he was overly optimistic at the worst of times. Peter _was_ also easy to panic and screw up…so there was _that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come scream at me below, I know you want to. ;)
> 
> Comments and Kudos appreciated.
> 
> See you next Monday for the last chapter of this story! The Sequel I am currently writing is nearing it's end as well. So, once this is done, expect to have the first chapter of the Sequel the Monday after next chapter. :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! I can't believe we are here already. :O Well, I can, but there is still a long way to go. *smirks* So, some news. I decided to add a 3rd part to this series. I also finished writing the sequel, but now I need to write the sequel to the sequel. Ha, ha. I have it all mapped out, I just need to write it.
> 
> Next Monday will be the 1st chapter of Part 2, so if you aren't subscribed to the Series: [I'm Not Strong Enough To Stay Away](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172873), do so now. Then you won't miss when that shows up. :D
> 
> Thank you to [Nelalila](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelalila/pseuds/Nelalila) for beta reading this series! <3 Also, thank you to all that have commented, left kudos, bookmarked and subscribed. I'm over the moon that you all enjoy this story! :)

**Saturday & Sunday: April 29-30th, 2017**

The rest of Friday had been spent re-webbing Peter every two hours and watching one another as Bucky fiddled around in frustration on his phone. Peter was allowed one small sip whenever he got thirsty, and when he did need to go to the bathroom…well…Bucky told him to release his bladder where he was sitting. A flicker of emotion washed over Bucky when Peter did so, one that showed it pained him to have Peter urinate himself…it made it less embarrassing and awful to know that neither one of them wanted the chaffing or the stench. That with all of Bucky’s talk about toughening Peter up, it wasn’t the least bit pleasant for the man. The teen had no illusions that Bucky hadn’t been ordered to do it countless times himself just because a handler told him so.

Peter managed to fall asleep in the chair. It wasn’t the first time he’d slept upright. Sometimes if a patrol went too long at night, he’d be at school come morning and find himself having drifted off. Then it only took a shout of his name to bring him back to the land of the living, followed by Flash’s teasing. Now, seeing the morning sun through one of the skylights in the ceiling, Peter smiled tiredly before jerking awake, the reality of what had happened the day before jarring him.

Bucky sat on the floor in front of Peter, with their shoes once more being the only thing that touched. Peter found that Bucky liked having some form of constant contact, as if it anchored or comforted him. Being that close to the older man allowed Peter to really see every detail and caused him to remember their kiss yesterday. It wasn’t necessarily the first kiss he wanted from a person, let alone Bucky, but the edges of Peter’s lips tilted up at the knowledge that they had…in fact…kissed.

“Good, you’re awake,” Bucky spoke gruffly, pocketing the cell phone in his jacket pocket and lifting his head to look at Peter.

“What time is it?”

Brows furrowed over hard eyes, followed by a silence that formed Peter’s answer.

Peter licked his lips nervously. “Okay, let me…try again. What is the plan today? Is…is it safe to leave?”

“Not yet,” Bucky answered and looked to the left. “It probably won’t be until nighttime tomorrow. I need them to assume that I’m not in the city anymore, and the Captain will help with that. He will try to explain that I move fast and am most likely states away already…if not over the border. Which means that Tony won’t call you in. You are nearing the end of the school year and I’m technically out of your home territory.” The dark, yet pleased smirk on Bucky’s lips as he brought his attention back to Peter had goosebumps decorate Peter’s flesh. “Except, they don’t know I’m travelling with another _person,_ which tends to slow things down a bit. However, it doesn’t mean that their ignorance won’t provide me with an advantage.”

Peter shook his head, sighing at how much his heart was hurting. “H-how can you talk like this? How can you even think like this? Bucky…”

“Stop saying my name!”

The shout startled them both. Tears formed in Peter’s eyes and he sniffed a couple times, trying to swallow the buildup of saliva that came with the burning sensation in his nostrils. Bucky stood up and moved into his foreboding stance. It was a good stance. Peter felt very small and intimidated, more than he had ever felt with Vulture, but it was scarily similar to how Mr. Stark had got when he stepped out of his suit after the ferry incident.

Curled fingers came to rest under Peter’s chin to make him look at Bucky. The battle of wanting to be soft and a hardened soldier achingly evident. Peter, again, felt _hope_ at that sight. “P-please, Bucky. Let me out…I promise…I won’t run away. Let me help you,” Peter whispered.

Bucky’s thumb came up to smooth over the dip below Peter’s lip, circling and going up to finally brush the lips themselves. “You’re already going to help me,” Bucky replied, then let his hand drop. “Just not yet.” He walked away from Peter and grabbed one of the food bags to start picking out the next rationed meal.

They ate only once that day. Peter knew that he was growing on Bucky’s nerves a bit when he mentioned twice that he was hungry, and his stomach added to that fact when it growled in such a big empty space…with two people whose hearing was better than the average human. Peter tried to follow directions and not ask for more, whether it was food or water. By Sunday, he’d peed his pants enough that Bucky had to remove them and wash them in the salty water outside. He guessed he should have been grateful that it was only the jeans that were removed; it meant that Bucky was still thinking about decency. That Bucky was thinking about boundaries. Peter did blush quite a bit when the man’s fingers unbuttoned the front of him, and worked the pants off of his legs. It was one thing for the guys in gym class to see, or even Ned, but a whole other thing for Bucky because of how much Peter liked him.

Sunday, Peter found out how much Bucky had really been holding back.

A homeless person wandered in while Peter was sleeping, waking him up before dawn could break. The frightened man who was dirty, hungry and missing a few teeth had wanted food and a place to call his own. What he had found was a kidnapped teenager that the man thought was going to be sex trafficked. Bucky shook the man, his hand gripping the homeless guy’s neck with a growl. Bucky explained that Peter should really see what he was capable of. Telling Peter what he was about to do was to desensitize the teen, so that he could do the same in the future…when it called for it. Peter couldn’t speak fast enough as he stumbled over his words and cried. The pop of ligaments and fragile vocal chords were a prelude to the loud snap that seemed to echo in the warehouse. It went on to linger in Peter’s head as he fell into shock, the tears unable to stop flowing from his eyes, his shoulders shuddering uncontrollably with his sobs.

The body was dragged away outside to be thrown into the water, where the splash added to the traumatic soundtrack playing rent free in Peter’s brain.

So, yes…Sunday…Sunday was the worst day. It was so bad that for the rest of the day, Peter lost his appetite and didn’t even eat the next ration put in his lap. He didn’t try and talk to Bucky, let alone say the man’s name. Nothing. Peter barely even heard, as he was falling asleep, Bucky tell him to rest up and that the man would be back with a car. The time had come to leave New York.

*

**Now…**

Tears tracked in a wide trail down both cheeks. Bucky’s eyes were red and puffy from crying as Peter spoke. A part of him was glad that Peter hadn’t been hurt or traumatized further, but even then Bucky felt shitty for being glad. He’d still kidnapped Peter. He’d still scared and violated Peter, no matter what the teen said about having wanted the kiss. At least he didn’t have either the old or new arm for all of this. Bucky had folded forward at the mention of killing someone, his forehead resting on his arm between his face and the concrete flooring. It was a sad and pathetic attempt to hide, and also not see Peter’s face. It hurt to know that Peter most likely woke up every morning feeling like it’d been a dream, only to freak out at the sight of the bindings…at the sight of Bucky.

Bucky had no idea if he had actually left to get the car mentioned or if he had just froze and powered down where he’d finally come back to himself. They would have to find out. If there was a car outside, Bucky was going to drive them upstate and turn himself in. There was no returning to the apartment and pretending that nothing happened. There was no returning to the friendship that had grown between Peter and Bucky. He’d not only acted on his urges, but it was clear that he was far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated. Bucky wasn’t safe, and neither was Peter safe from Bucky.

Standing up, he used his sleeve to wipe away the moisture on his face. Bucky walked up to Peter and broke the chains. He could tell by the texture of the webbing that it was dissolving and nearing the two hour mark. The minute the chains were broken, Bucky stepped back to allow Peter to get to his feet and break the remnants of the sticky substance. He watched Peter try to remain calm as he stretched out his stiff limbs. Though he wanted to, Bucky did not go forward when Peter seemed to be unsteady from having his meals rationed over the weekend. The kid needed double the caloric intake than normal, due to his abilities, much like Bucky and Steve did. But Bucky was used to the lack of food. He was used to living off of what he could find and making it last. Peter was not. Yet another thing Bucky had done…he practically starved him.

“We need to find a car, if there isn’t one already…” Bucky broke the silence. Licking his lips, he went to walk past Peter, only for a hand to grab his bicep. Whereas the last time Peter had done that it led them there, this time all it did was _just_ hurt Bucky’s heart.

“Bucky, please look at me,” Peter said.

Had Bucky not been? How could Bucky not have been looking at Peter and seen his own handy work? But then again, he’d been looking at Peter… just not _really looking_ at Peter. The teen walked around so that their eyes could meet, and Bucky wanted to crumble at what he saw. Peter’s hand smoothed up to cup Bucky’s cheek, tentatively stepping in closer and showing how brave he was being despite everything that happened. Bucky froze, beyond scared to move, let alone breathe.

“I forgive you,” Peter choked out, narrowing his eyes as if that would drill the words into Bucky more. As if that would make Bucky believe it.

Bucky shook his head and turned it his face out of Peter’s reach. “Don’t.” Bucky shouldered past Peter as the tears started up again, not wanting the younger man to see him unable to keep his emotions in check. Not while he was trying to push Peter away. “Don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it.” He briefly glanced back at Peter, who followed close behind. “I don’t accept it.”

Opening the door to the outside, there was indeed a car waiting on the curb. Bucky moved around, searching his pockets for the keys before finding them and climbing behind the wheel. Peter wasn’t far behind in joining him in the vehicle. He couldn’t help wishing that he didn’t have to force the both of them to endure a ride in closed quarters, but it was necessary. Bucky knew that Peter practiced without a permit with May, but was still a bit uncertain on the road based on their past conversations. As Bucky drove, Peter asked where they were going and why. It was then that Bucky explained that when they got closer to the compound, Peter would web up Bucky and turn him in.

“Wait, what?” Peter exclaimed, turning in the passenger seat to face him.

“You’re going to say that you found me wandering around and tell them how I was acting.” Bucky gave a stern look to cut Peter off when he tried to interrupt him. “ _You are_ going to say that you knocked me out, tied me up, and that when I woke on the drive up I was back to myself again. If Tony asks why you look run down, tell him that you’ve been staying up with Ned having a video game or movie marathon—I know how you don’t eat or drink anything, let alone look at your phone when you are engrossed in those things—and that I put up quite the fight. Got it?”

“But--”

“I said, _Got. It_?” Bucky wasn’t even looking at the road now, his attention fully on the teen.

Peter’s jaw tightened and finally, he nodded.

“Good.” Bucky’s hand gripped and twisted on the wheel, the leather creaking as he did so. His eyes drifting back to the asphalt at being listened to. Another thing he was glad about was that Peter wasn’t like Steve and wouldn’t fight him on this plan. “Good,” he repeated with a breath of relief.

Peter had to lie, not just because of the questions that would arise about why it was Peter that was kidnapped, or why Peter didn’t fight back, but because if Tony found out…he’d not only take it out on the teen, but then he’d _really_ murder Bucky. And even though Bucky felt like he deserved every ounce of it, he wanted to protect Peter more.

*

Bucky was led into the room that had been made to withstand the Hulk. There were no luxuries in that room besides a large bed and a frosted plexiglass wall hiding a toilet, sink and shower. He walked over to the bed to sit down and face the door, glancing at the corners of the room where he knew hidden cameras to be. When they arrived at the Avenger’s Compound, the entire process had been as smooth as it could have been. After all, Bucky had escaped and been missing for days. Peter told him goodbye, and Tony mentioned that he would be with Bucky shortly. Bucky knew that Peter wanted to say more or even hug him before he walked away, and there was a good chance that it was the last they would see of each other for a while. He’d most likely be living here for longer than a month. Due to the wrench Bucky had thrown into the mix, escaping and having a mental breakdown, no doubt caused a shift in treatment schedule and the new methods they would have to enact.

If anything, Tony was thorough and true to his word. Bucky soon saw the billionaire enter and keep his distance, though he didn’t miss the glint of a fancy watch that if he had the money to wager, he would bet it could turn into an Iron Man gauntlet if Tony needed to subdue him. “So, Buck-a-roo, looks like therapy is working a little _too_ well,” Tony joked, stopping to see that Bucky wasn’t nearly as amused with the man’s antics as he used to be.

“What now?” Bucky’s brows rose, knowing how he looked…like the weight of the world had come crashing down on his shoulders and his alone. It was what Tony called his ‘overly depressing, kicked puppy face’.

“Now?” Tony inhaled, then huffed out with a brief widening of his eyes. He then began to pace and talk with his hands. “Now we work harder than ever. I had F.R.I.D.A.Y send a message to Princess Shuri about what happened and…look at that. A reply.” Bucky didn’t need to ask what he meant because he knew that Tony had E.D.I.T.H. on, and could see things that others couldn’t. “We both agree that scans and testing will need to be done. In a controlled environment, of course.” He motioned to the room. “To determine just what other goodie bags were left behind by the tentacle fiend still rooting around in your brain.”

Bucky sighed. “You sure have a way with words, Tony.”

Tony smiled thoughtfully. “I know.” There was a slight pause before he continued. “Then after that, we will work on removing every last ounce and move forward with final safety procedures to make sure it was successful. Once that is done, therapy can be resumed with Janice and B.A.R.F. And after that…well…after that you should be able to live as normal of a life as any Avenger can.”

Bucky straightened and frowned. “But I’m not an Avenger.”

“Correction,” Tony pointed and half turned. “You are. I just haven’t told anyone, let…alone… _you…_ ” Tony squinted and looked apologetic, before smirking with a shrug. “Until now. If that _is_ what you want, when you are in control again…Or, did I hear wrong all those times in documentaries and war stories, ‘Till the end of the line? I thought Steve and you were attached at the hip or something poetic? My mistake…”

Bucky groaned and shook his head at the annoying grown up son of Howard Stark. “No, you heard right. It’s something to consider. So…maybe…yeah…I can make a difference when this is all over.”

The two shared a look, Tony kind of proud to hear that Bucky hadn’t completely fallen into the pit of despair. “Baby steps, Buck-a-roo. Baby steps.” Tony turned and was about to head out, telling the man that his A.I. would deliver him any food or clothes that he asked for. “All you have to do is ask. Don’t be shy. And--”

“Um…Tony?”

Tony raised a brow and hummed in question, half facing the man still sitting on the bed.

Bucky worried his bottom lip with his teeth before sighing. “Can you add to the end of those plans to maybe schedule that arm installment you and Shuri wanted to do?”

He swore he couldn’t have seen Tony look more like a kid on Christmas day at that. “Done.” Tony winked and exited, leaving Bucky alone to his own devices for the rest of the day. Because tomorrow…tomorrow the harder and more extensive work would start.

**To be continued...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated.
> 
> REMEMBER: Sequel starts next Monday, so go to the series linked underneath this end note or up in the note at the top to subscribe. :D


End file.
